


Mr. Hancock's Secretary

by Goodneighbor_Neighbor (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [8]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Barebacking, Creampie, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Forced Masturbation, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Penis In Vagina Sex, Roleplay, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Goodneighbor_Neighbor
Summary: A little old-world roleplay for the Mayor of Goodneighbor and his gal, followed by a history lesson that Hancock doesn't hate hearing.
Relationships: John Hancock & Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Commonwealth Kinks [2019 Prompt List] [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727050
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Mr. Hancock's Secretary

"Oh, Miss Dupont? Could you come here for a minute?” Hancock called. “I could use your help.” He took a deep drag, holding the smoke in until his chest burned before letting it out in a slow stream as he waited. 

She slunk in, a stack of folders hugged to her chest, adjusting the thick black frames on her nose as she walked. “ _ Oui, Monsieur ‘Ancock _ ?” 

He grinned, just taking her measure for the moment. The green dress was a little thin, doing a poor job of hiding the black lacy thing underneath that was holding her breasts up so high, even buttoned neat and firm across them like it was. The hem hit just under her knees, teasing him with its swinging as she click-clacked across the floor to stand in front of him; her stride was steady, not one wobble even on heels as tall as the span of his hand. “I can’t seem to find the finance reports for the bar, Miss Dupont.”

She adjusted the glasses again. “They’re in your cabinet,  _ Monsieur ‘Ancock _ .” 

“Be a doll and find’em for me?” he said, not bothering to be sly about undressing her with his eyes. The black lacy thing under that dress probably looked  _ so _ good against her skin, all stretched around those wonderfully full breasts. Just thinking about it made him drool a little around the cigarette. “And lose the sass, huh?” He added, just to let her know he saw her eyes roll .

Miss Dupont went to the file cabinets against the wall, pulling open drawers and picking through them, muttering under her breath.

“Maybe the bottom one?” Hancock called, still grinning like a fool.

She bent slowly to open the drawer, heels together and legs straight. Watching the hem slide up and skim the back of her legs, Hancock licked his lips and got up. It wasn’t two steps before he was behind her, both hands on her big round ass, squeezing hard and startling her.

“ _ Monsieur ‘Ancock! _ What do you think you are doing?” she demanded, managing to stand up by leaning into the file cabinet, pulling her body away from his touch.

Hancock followed her, hands going to the top of the cabinets on either side to block her in. He ground against her and put his lips to her ears. “It’s time for your evaluation, Miss Dupont…unless you want to find another job.”

“No.” she said, sounding very defeated.

“Then you know what to do.” He growled, backing away and taking the opportunity to swat her butt. “Now do what you’re supposed to.” Hancock slapped her ass again and then grabbed the neat little twist on the back of her head, yanking on it. Bobby pins, some bent to ruin, rained onto the floor and the twist unraveled down her back fast. He buried his face in her hair, breathing deep the clean, flowery smell of it and relishing its silkiness. Then he stepped back and went back to his seat, sitting down with a wide sprawl that emphasized how much that little bit of slap-and-tickle had already fired him up.

Miss Dupont, cheeks flaming, left the safety of the cabinets to stand in front of him, shaky fingers going to the buttons running down the front of her dress. “ _ Monsieur ‘Ancock,  _ please be reasonable.” she muttered.

He lit another cigarette. “All the way off, then park that pretty fat ass right on the table. Remember, this is your evaluation: you’d  _ better _ follow  _ all  _ my directions.”

She shot him an angry look, neatly laying the dress beside him before sitting down on the coffee table.

Hancock had been right; her cups ran over, lace stretched taught, straps digging into her shoulders a little. The valley between her breasts was so deep, he thought he could lose a hand in it.The matching panties dug into her hips and perfectly outlined her plump lips. Her legs looked impossible long without the dress to hide under; just miles and miles from the edge of the panties to the shiny black of those high heels. “Open those thighs wide Miss Dupont, I’m not paying you to tease.” he snapped, breathing hard.

The blush on her cheeks crept down, bringing that rosy color to the tops of her breasts where they jiggled above the cups. But she complied, the fabric at her crotch drawing in a little; the panties were also seductively too small for that much woman.

“Oh yeah. That’s some top quality posing right there.” Hancock murmured, leaning forward and loosening his tie a little. “Now put one of those perfectly manicured little hands in there,” he flicked the fabric where it was sinking into her slightly with his finger, “like I know you do at home.”

Miss Dupont, glasses sliding down her nose as she avoided his gaze, slid a shaking hand into her panties, and started to touch.

Hancock licked his lips. There was something about watching the fabric stretch over her knuckles, knowing her fingers were busy but not being able to see them, that was really revving his engine. It didn’t hurt that he could smell her lust growing; in a room full of a million girls getting off, he’d still know her just by the smell. “You act like you hate these evaluations, but I think you’re lying to me, Miss Dupont.” Hancock leaned back, picking up a bottle of beer and bringing it to his lips. There was only a swallow left, so he emptied it.

She was squirming now, leaning back on one hand with the other busy teasing herself slick. Sneaking a look at Hancock didn’t help the situation; he was sitting there with the tie halfway down his chest, top buttons popped, holding onto his beer bottle with his tongue tracing the rim and dipping into it like he was doing that to something else.

Hancock got as much of the beer taste off the bottle as he could manage, then nudged her inner thigh with his foot. “This. Now.” he barked, holding the bottle out to her. “And I wanna see it.”

Miss Dupont took the bottle with shaking, slick fingers. To give her boss the unobstructed view he demanded, she had to hook her heel on the coffee table and plant the other on the ground, hold the now-soaking fabric to the side, and try to keep upright even as the cool glass with his spit all around the end of it started to slide in.

Hancock leaned back fast, slamming against the back of the couch, eyes glued on her. The heel was going to leave a pretty good gouge in his table, but it made for such a nice, wide stage that he couldn’t be mad. She was only using the neck though, stopping just as the bottle flared out. He thought about correcting her, about putting his foot on the end of the bottle and encouraging her to take it deeper…but the slick sound of glass and warm, wet skin was good enough. Besides, he thought as he unzipped his pants to give himself some breathing room, why ruin the ride before he got in?

She couldn’t help but whimper; the glass didn’t give much friction but it was  _ hot  _ and smooth and Mr. Hancock was watching her violate herself on his command, sitting across from her with practically a mountain in his lap because of her. That was the worst part of these evaluations; he acting like a pig and she hated it, but by the time it got to this point, she was almost ready to let him have her. Her eyes were closed, starting to imagine the hot glass teasing her folds was him, missing the sound of his zipper sliding down or his grunt of relief as he set himself free.

He was at his limit; Hancock grabbed her wrist, taking the bottle out of her and holding her eyes as he cleaned the rim of it again. “Creamy.” he purred.

_ That _ was actually mortifying to hear, let alone see. Miss Dupont tried to pull her hand free of his grip, eyes wide behind the glasses. “ _ Monsieur ‘Ancock what are you doing?!” _

Hancock set the bottle down on the floor and tipped his secretary back with the heel of his hand, still holding her wrist with the other. “I  _ told _ you Miss Dupont, it’s time for your evaluation.” He growled as his head slid against her; between the fabric and her excitement, he couldn’t just slide in; he’d have to actually take aim. That was even better, her being so excited even as her free hand slapped at his arm and chest. 

“ _ Non _ ,  _ non _ don’t you  _ dare _ , this is highly, highly inappropriate!” Miss Dupont protested as she slapped at him. He was so strong and so solid and so  _ masculine _ , and she was trapped on the coffee table in that wide-legged position. She felt the full weight and length of him sink in and it took her breath away; and he  _ moaned _ . Long and low like a man sinking into the most relaxing place ever. She couldn’t help but shiver.

Hancock grinned, free hand into her hair to grip the back of her head and force her to look at him as he started to thrust. “Miss Dupont, I don’t give a fuck!” he growled, letting go of her wrist to grab her thigh and hitch her leg up higher against his hip. Her eyes went wide and he felt her bear down. “That’s right Miss Dupont, you just relax and let me finish our business like a good girl.” 

Miss Dupont braced against the table, feeling it slide along the floor beneath them because of his hard thrusts. With her leg cocked and hips pinned the way they were, she was helpless against the blooming fire in her belly. “ _ Monsieur ‘Ancock please,  _ please stop, please, I won’t tell I won’t, you have to  _ stop _ !” she whimpered. “I don’t want to get a baby!”

“Oh Miss Dupont, if that happens you’ll just have to quit and take on a new job as my little toy, won’t you? No, if you get pregnant,” Hancock growled as he ground into her, feeling her tighten again, “that’s your own fault and you’ll just have to manage, won’t you?” He was as deep as he could reach, head brushing something firm-yet-spongy that made her eyes roll behind the glasses. 

“F-f-f-fuck!” Her throat struggled to push that low oath out and catch her breath at the same time. He was  _ deep _ , he was  _ too deep _ , she was going to black out if he stayed there for long!

Hancock pulled her hair, forcing her head to tip back; when he’d hit that odd place she’d try to curl up. “I wanna see you  _ come _ when I knock you up!” he snarled. 

She yelled as the orgasm hit her, a little painful for his steady nudging of her cervix; thankfully he didn’t really broach it or she’d wind up screaming fit to bring security in. It was a wet climax that left her feeling shaky and embarrassed.

That sudden wave of musk startled him and pushed him over the edge; Hancock came deep against that odd little spot so hard the edges of his vision went gray and he couldn’t help but collapse on top of her. Soap and musk and sweat filled his senses and he nuzzled her skin. She kicked him after a few seconds, the edge of the high heel giving him a stern poke in the thigh.

“ _ Jean _ , this hurts my back.” Yvette murmured. “At least put me to the couch, you beastly man.” she teased.

Hancock nuzzled again, then did his best to get untangled from her without taking her off the table. He wound up smashing his knee into the edge of it, but nobody got punched in the face this time. Hancock settled back on the couch and held his hands out to her so she could use him for leverage.

Yvette sat up, taking off the glasses and laying them aside, then taking his hands and letting him guide her into straddling his lap. The panties were cold and wet now, but his spunk was always so warm and she knew she was going to dribble all over his slacks in this position; that was probably what he wanted. He’d consented to dressing up this time, but she knew he’d rather have her dress up for him than the other way around; so it was extra sweet that he’d agreed this time. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “So… _ bien?” _

Hancock grinned at her lazily, hands to her hips to pull her down tighter against him. “Oh yeah….you gotta wear those shoes more often, beautiful; they’re  _ really _ good.”

She snorted. “Dirty, dirty  _ monsieur le maire _ .” Yvette teased, wiggling her toes until the shoes came off, hitting the floor with a thunk. They weren’t too bad; she’d worn higher pairs going to school, but she didn’t want to risk cutting him or putting holes in the couch. “You look  _ very _ sexy in a suit, you know.” She murmured, peppering his face with kisses. 

Hancock closed his eyes, relaxing under the kisses. She even kissed the thick flap that covered his nose hole*; he supposed if he had had an actual nose, that would’ve been the tip. “Oh yeah?”

“ _ Mmm hmmm _ .” she purred. “A man with such strong shoulders, such a firm chest, in buttons and ties and crisp lines?  _ Oh yes _ , very sexy.”

He grinned, opening his eyes. “Ok, you got me convinced. It won’t kill me to put on a suit every once in a while when I wanna go’atcha.” Hancock massaged her hips. “…don’t suppose it’d kill you to wear those specs more often? Kinda sexy, in a weird way.”

“You know I cannot see through those, right?” she said drily.

“Oh…we’ll have to find a pair you can.” he teased.

Yvette rolled her eyes. “Can I ask for a something?”

“Anything, but I still need a couple minutes.” Hancock grinned. 

“Not  _ that!”  _ She swatted his arm. “Well…not yet, anyway.” she amended.

He couldn’t stop grinning. Being wanted was never getting old, he decided. “What do you want, beautiful?”

Yvette bit her lip, trying to puzzle out the right way to say what she needed to say.

“You’re making an awful serious face there, beautiful.” Hancock said slowly, watching her brows knit together. “That not an issue of Live & Love you’d wanna revisit?”

“Oh--oh no, no, it was fine playing  _ Jean _ , really.” Yvette said quickly, knitting her hands behind his head. “Just ahm…the next time you want to make a threat like a bad boss, will you not say things about abandoning me with a baby?”

He frowned, trying to figure out what had come out of his mouth that had hit her like that. There might have been  _ something _ about knocking her up, but he didn’t think he’d said anything like  _ that _ . “I don’t remember saying anything like that but if I did, I’m sorry beautiful. I wasn’t trying to put you off.” he said earnestly.

Yvette shook her head. “No, no, before you came you said basically that if I were to become pregnant, it would be something I would have to deal with myself. Or close enough to that.” she added, because the exact words were slipping away, fuzzy already from the afterglow.

“Oh…oh, shit, I’m sorry.” Hancock said immediately. Him and his big mouth; of course she wouldn’t want any kind of baby talk, not with everything that was going on! “I didn’t mean to make you think of some shit while you were trying to get off.”

She blinked, cocking her head. “What? No, no it is just that it is a threat that has always bothered me. Before the bombs, that is how you could ruin a woman. It did not matter that it takes two to make the baby-- _ she, _ ” Yvette held up one hand in a claw to punctuate the point, “was the wicked one, the bad influence, the one to be punished, while  _ he _ ,” she held up the other hand to make the same emphasis, “could go merry-on-his way, no problems, no fault, no blame.” she flicked her hands up as if fanning away the injustice of it. “ _ C’est des conneries _ , but that is how it was.”

Hancock slid his hands along her hips and thighs, up to her sides before lacing them behind her back to rest at the small of her back. “So you could fuck around, but only the gal gets caught if she gets round?”

Yvette nodded. “And if he did marry you, but you had the baby first, you were  _ still  _ the wicked one; you had done it on purpose, to trap a good man with you, as if he was just so passive in the act…which ok some men  _ were _ , but for the most part, it still takes the two.” she said grumpily.

Hancock frowned; there was a little extra venom in that history lesson. “Sounds uh…sounds like you got some uh…whaddaya call it? First-hand experience?” he said slowly. Yvette was pretty free and honest when it came to talking about how things used to be, without getting all maudlin like Paulie*did…most of the time. But she was still being very slow and very shy about giving up what it had been like  _ for her _ . Not that Hancock was pushing hard; he wasn’t Piper. He could wait for her to share, like she waited for him to share.

“Oh  _ Martin’s _ parents  _ hated _ me, because I ‘trapped’ their sweet little boy.” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Hancock gave a low whistle. “Oh, so you’re one of those  _ bad _ girls, huh?” he teased.

“Oh the  _ worst _ .” Yvette snorted. “Never mind that we were dating and we never made each other do things that we could not or would not do,  _ oh no _ . It was just something that happened, because we did use protection.”

“They made trash bags that big?” he teased.

Yvette flushed bright red, covering her mouth to try and smother the loud laugh. “They were so hard to find! For all that we did do, we did  _ this _ ,” she cast her eyes down to Hancock’s lap, “not very often at all before we were married.”

It was probably wrong of him to revel in the fact he got to do nothing  _ but _ fuck her, and bareback to boot…but Hancock figured he’d earned the right to be a little petty in the face of his hallucinatory sometimes-company. “So what happened?”

She shrugged. “I guess it broke? I do not know. He had come to visit for his leave before they sent his unit to Canada; he was supposed to go to Alaska, to fight there.” 

“Shit.” 

Yvette nodded. “Then the accident happened--the official word was that it was  _ ‘un accident catastrophique _ ’ but…who can say?” she shrugged. “He spent much time in the hospital, for surgery and therapy to heal. I did not get to see him for three months, and by then,” she mimed a curve on her stomach, “ _ Voila, une bosse-b _ _ é _ _ b _ _ é _ .”

Hancock unlaced his fingers to run his hands up and down her back, finding the bra closure and deciding to mess with it. “How uh--how’d he take--how’d--ok  _ how _ in the hell do you do this?” he groused as he fumbled, thought interrupted by the stubbornness of the hooks and eyes.

Yvette laughed. “You are pulling too early; you have to bring it together first so the hooks are loose, and then you can unhook them… _ et voila _ !” she announced as the bra suddenly loosened.

Hancock pulled it off, running his fingertips over the places where the contraption had dug in, on her shoulders and around her ribs. He hugged her up so he could kiss at least kiss the divots on her shoulders better. She giggled at it; he liked to hear her giggle. He was also kind of liking how easy the conversation had been going. “What was I asking?”

“I think you were about to ask me how he took the news.” Yvette smiled. “He would not see me, at first? He thought if I saw him, now with damage, that I would not love him anymore.”

“Dumbass.” Hancock couldn’t help the interjection.

But she smiled. “See? You know me so well.” Yvette rewarded him with a kiss on the forehead. “I finally snuck into his room and hid, to catch him when he returned from his physical therapies. He nearly fell out of his chair when I showed him.” She mimed a curve over her stomach again. “I was not very,  _ very _ big or far along, but it was different enough from my figure before he left that he could not deny me. He proposed right there, and we went to the courthouse as soon as he was released from the hospital…I think it was another three or four months later?” Yvette tapped her bottom lip, thinking.

“So a real boss baby by then?” Hancock said, letting his eyes just roam while she squinted past him in thought. He’d never thought about what happened to a gal when she got knocked up, or what she did when she went all the way; it was a big blind-spot for him that was starting to get filled in in strange ways, in pieces and in moments when he had his hands all over her. 

Yvette giggled. “ _ Une bosse-b _ _ é _ _ b _ _ é _ _.”  _ She said slowly, grabbing his chin to try and help him make the vowels work. It never worked; Hancock would get distracted or make a silly face or try to nip her fingers in play.

It was cute, her trying to teach him all hands-on…but it was too distracting, and honestly Hancock didn’t count himself smart enough without some chemical assistance to catch on. “You know what I mean.” he said before opening his mouth wider to just catch her finger with his lips.

“Yes, a very big belly by the time we saw a judge. I had not even met his parents before then, and the first time we see them, we have court papers in hand and the same last name and I am  _ big _ .” Yvette sighed. “And if I am honest, they were not welcoming people…I still, today, cannot figure out how such cold people made someone who loved me so warmly.” She shook her head. “They were very certain that even though he had been exploded, still had trouble writing his name, and could not hear out of one side of his head, that  _ I _ was the reason the Army ended his career early.”

Hancock frowned. “Shit, that was a pretty bad fuck-up, all that.”

“By sheer dumb luck, he did not die. There were still pieces, little pieces of metal and wire in him? Some still came out months later, like little machine pimples.” she shrugged. “So because he could not reasonably navigate the field in Power Armor the way he used to, the Army basically said ‘thank you very much, here is your severance package, we do not want you but stay by the phone just in case--bye-bye’ .” Yvette rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I was glad for it…he had  _ terrible _ nightmares and troubles afterwards; bad moods, forgetfulness…I was happier to have him in a home with me, where I could take care of him, then to face a chance he would be far away from me and have a bad time with his nightmares with no comfort.”

For a second, Hancock was overwhelmed by pity for a dead man he’d never know. Beautiful gal, and he couldn’t always enjoy her for a case of the head-fucks. “Sounds like…sounds like things were a little rough.” he said cautiously. They were in dangerous territory, talking about ol’ Martin like this. She wasn’t teary-eyed, and she wasn’t sugar-coating, and she hadn’t gone flat; those were good signs. Well…goodish, considering the topic.

“Sometimes,” Yvette admitted, “but I had recent certifications for practice and a friend of mine had an office that needed another psychologist…and Martin was more in love with Shaun than I think even with me,” she laughed, “so he did not fight with me about what we would do.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Hancock shifted, nestling against the couch. He was warm, and comfortable, she was soft and smiling…it was a good time after a good time.

“Oh, old silliness--the man goes to work and brings home the bacon, the woman stays home to cook and to clean and to raise babies and to service cock, and to not have a thought in her head besides what fork goes where on the table and do her stockings have runs.” Yvette rolled her eyes.

Hancock laughed, hard and loud. “That’s the dumbest shit I ever heard! I get it, shit was different but  _ what a fuckin waste _ !” he coughed, thumping his chest to try and clear what the laughter shook free. “Who came up with that shit?”

“Scared men with lots of money.” Yvette replied. “Martin, thankfully, had sense like you have sense.” She said warmly.

It wasn’t really sense, it was just…well Hancock didn’t know what he’d call it. Maybe some settlements out in the Commonwealth ran shit like that, but everywhere else: you put in what you wanted to get out, didn’t matter what you were riding on. Goodneighbor at least ran like that, he made sure of it. 

“We decided together that I would go to work and he would stay home with Shaun and we would ignore all of his parents’ advice.” Yvette continued. “Although Martin did talk me into spending our money on Codsworth…which I can say now I am very glad for, though he was not cheap at the time.”

Hancock nodded a little. “Hell, he wouldn’t be a cheap buy now. You know how many caps a halfway-working Mr. Handy goes for?”

She shook her head.

“Me neither, cuz it’s outta my reach.” he snorted.

Yvette laughed. “ _ You _ do not need any more hands  _ Jean _ , yours are already busy enough.” she said, leaning down to kiss him. “ _ Now _ …how about a bath?”

Hancock licked his lips, hands wandering over her body and coming up to cup her face, holding her for a much longer kiss. “In a few minutes, beautiful, in a few…” he purred.

Yvette blushed, melting a little at that. “Should I put the heels back on?”

Hancock grinned. “And the glasses.”

**Author's Note:**

> *I've decided my Sole's maiden name is Dupont [married being O'Shea], and I figure for roleplay, especially with all the baggage, that she'd be more keen to have Hancock use THAT instead of the other...I may write something later about them broaching that subject, if I think about it or y'all are interested :D
> 
> **This is strictly me being too nerdy, but the idea of Ghouls having nothing to protect their sinuses bothers me? So I came up with a weird anatomical headcanon that most develop a layer of scar tissue over the hole--not a thick one, more like a slightly opaque semi-permeable one that keeps more stuff out than it lets in. It also lets me explain away some of the voices that Ghoul NPCs will pop out with lol [you'd be surprised how involved your physical nose structure actually is when it comes to speech and language!] without really affecting game-model appearances and stuff...yes, I think way too hard about the most random things, I know
> 
> ***The voice actor for the Vault-Tec Rep is Paul Eiding, so that's how I came up with Paulie. Poor guy doesn't even get a proper name in the txt.file, isn't that sad?
> 
> If I had to timeline this, I'd put it somewhere between the confession and their First Three Days and the endgame. They've still got things to learn and I apparently am just building all kinds of kinkcanons into Hancock but that's half the fun, isn't it? :D


End file.
